How Do I Keep a Pregnancy Secret?

It was a ClearBlue pregnancy test, which made everything easy. Not one line or two, no online instruction manual to hunt down. Just a simple word, displayed across the top. PREGNANT. I had expected it, had known, somewhere deep inside, what it would say, but I still inhaled sharply, my hand shaky as I gripped the stick harder. I still took a step back, my shoulders hitting the wall of the bathroom, a towel rod digging into my spine.

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"Time's up." The voice came from behind me and I jumped, turning to see the firefighter, his shoulders taking up the entire hall, his face all business and no sympathy. "You got to get out."

I hid the stick in my hand. "Just a minute." His face hardened. "Thirty seconds." I promised, crouching down and fumbling behind the toilet, my hands skating over the floor, making sure that nothing else had fallen. I stuffed it all, including the test, into her purse and closed the top flap, sliding my hand through the straps and hugging it against my body. "OK, I'm ready."

Nicole was pregnant. No wonder she was so frantic for me to get to the plane, for me to get her purse. No wonder Chanel was second on that list of things she needed me to find. If someone else had found the test, if word and photos had leaked … I thought of Clarke and of his reaction. I thought of Paulo and my world got a little darker.

Who was the father? Did she know? I tried to do the math, tried to figure out how long ago I had seen Paulo, up by her bedroom … the timeframe worked. For both of them, either of them. Somewhere, at the core of all this, there was a joke. The condom queen getting pregnant? It was a worse storyline than all those Lifetime movies Nicole had done.

What would she tell Clarke? That was my next question. Had she really ever come clean with him? Were she and Paulo really over? Too many things to think about. Too many conflicts that weren't really my problem. This was why I had quit. I had to get myself out of this drama, to stop having ethical dilemmas. All this crap was supposed to go away with my new job on set. Leave it to Nicole to drop the drama right in my lap. And leave it to me to be sitting here, ready to take it.

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Hannah was waiting for me, Chanel in her arms, and I tried to smile, holding up the purse.

"Thank god," she mouthed, a cell phone to her ear, and she nodded toward her car. "Ready?" I nodded, my hand tight on the Birkin's handle.

Babies should be celebrated. Loved and treasured. I should be excited for her.

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